


Clean

by emungere



Category: Saiyuki
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-11-30
Updated: 2007-11-30
Packaged: 2018-02-27 14:13:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,260
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2695976
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emungere/pseuds/emungere
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's amazing, Banri thinks, how wrong things can go, and how fast.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Clean

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to louiselux for the beta!

It's amazing, Banri thinks, how wrong things can go, and how fast.

Maybe he should've brought Gojyo along. The kid's weirdly good in a fight, tough for being as scrawny as he is. Maybe with Gojyo to help out, Banri wouldn't now be tied up on the floor next to a bunch of sour patch monks and a priest as old as dirt.

"You guys are making a mistake," Banri says, because it's always a good thing to say. They're not, but he'll be ready when they do. 

Tsing sneers at him and flips him the bird. Han ignores him completely and keeps loading candlesticks and shit into his bag. Dal walks over to him, swaggering, smiling his stupid smile.

"Gonna make some threats now, Banri?" Dal says. "Tell us what you're gonna do when you--"

But just as he's stepping into range, some moron kicks the temple doors open. They're big doors, ten feet high and wide enough to drive a couple of oxen through, assuming you wanted oxen in your temple, which, probably not so much. Anyway, hell of a kick, so when the little blond guy comes in, Banri just keeps looking at the open doorway, waiting for his muscle to follow him.

It's just blondie though. He's a priest, Banri guesses by the robes, but not like any priest he's seen before. He's got hair for one thing, and he's hot for another, and if you want more than that, damn, he's _young_.

Tsing goes for him first, flailing those ham-sized fists around. Usually that's all it takes for him to win, which means he knows fuck-all about fighting. The priest is something else, moves fast and light, hits Tsing hard--knee, groin, throat, and Tsing goes down.

With everyone nicely distracted, Banri starts working on his ropes. He's kind of impressed, but no way is he counting on blondie to save his ass.

Han is edging around behind the altar, getting out of sight. It's what Banri would be doing if he could. The priest looks like one seriously pissed off dude. Tsing is twitching and moaning on the floor, and the priest strides past him, going for Dal.

Dal backpedals like the pussy he is. "Look, man," he says. "Look, we didn't hurt nobody, okay? It's just a few bucks. Aren't you guys supposed to give to the poor? They don't get any poorer than us--" And then the priest is in range, and Dal ducks and lunges and drives a fist straight for his stomach, or tries to.

The priest just sidesteps and conks Dal on the back of the head with the butt of his gun, no trouble. Only now Han is going for him from behind like a really bad fart, silent and deadly. There's a knife in his hand, and the priest doesn't know he's there.

Just then is when Banri gets the knot loose. There's no time to think. There's just the knowledge that if Han wins, Banri's dead. He grabs the little round Buddha statue next to him and whips it hard at Han. Banri's aiming for his stomach, but his aim was never that hot. It hits Han's head with a wet crunch, and Han drops.

The priest looks at Banri. "Ropes," he says. "Are you deaf? Hurry up."

Banri jerks his eyes away from Han and the little scrunched in part of his head. There's blood next to it on the temple floor. Not a lot. Just a little streak of red. He swallows and unwinds the ropes from his wrists and ankles, throwing them over.

The priest kicks Tsing and Dal over onto their stomachs and ties their hands behind them. He checks Han's pulse and glances at Banri. He doesn't bother to tie Han up, which Banri guesses is confirmation, if he needed any.

After that, when they're all sure it's safe, the monks mob blondie. Banri's never seen a guy look more pissy about being thanked in his life. He can sort of understand it, actually. _Oh, thank you, Master Sanzo, we'd all be dead without you, Master Sanzo._ Just on and on and on, they sure do like to talk.

Banri stays quiet and tries not to look at Han's body any more than he has to. He didn't mean to kill him, and Han would've killed him, but even so. Plus, that little bit of pushed in skull is nasty.

The crowd of monks surges around good old Master Sanzo. Staying back from the crowd, Banri pulls out a cigarette and lights it--and finds abruptly that he's got the priest's attention. Narrowed blue eyes watch his fingers as he lifts the cigarette to his mouth and watch his lips as he breathes out smoke. That interests Banri enough that he walks over instead of just getting the fuck out.

He taps a monk on the shoulder, and, when he turns around, leans down to say, "Boo!" right in his face. The monk squeaks and steps back, and the crowd parts to let Banri through.

"Smoke?" he says, offering Sanzo his own cigarette. Sanzo hesitates barely a second before snatching it from his hand and taking a long drag.

"Crappy brand."

"You're welcome, don't mention it." He lights himself another.

The monks mill and flutter, seeking some way to stay close to Sanzo and far away from Banri at the same time. Sanzo watches them like they're some alien species.

"You wanna get a drink?" Banri says. It's just an impulse. He could justify it if he wanted to--it _would_ be useful to know more about this guy--but screw useful. He's curious. Not that he expects Sanzo to say yes.

Sanzo gives him a look not much different than he gave the monks. It makes Banri's skin itch. "Yeah," he says finally. "Okay."

He walks out without a word to anybody. Banri catches up with him in the street and points the way to his hotel.

"I don't usually drink with humans," he says.

"I don't usually drink with youkai."

Banri likes that. It's refreshing. And okay, he wasn't expecting some lovey-dovey brotherhood speech from this guy, but he wasn't expecting the truth either. Also, whatever Sanzo feels about drinking with youkai, he could've killed Tsing and Dal and he didn't.

"So, what? I'm just special?"

"I'm thirsty," Sanzo says. "And you're buying."

"I am, huh? I just saved your life back there, you know."

"Good for you."

Banri laughs and claps Sanzo on the shoulder just to see him glare. "I like you, man. For a human, you're okay."

"For a youkai, you're a useless waste of skin. Why did you let them tie you up?"

"Let?" Banri wants to be offended by the useless waste of skin comment, but he's not. Sanzo's just too entertaining.

"Let."

Banri shrugs. "Well, you know. I hear the sex is hotter that way."

Sanzo makes a soft sound that might be disgust or amusement and lets it go.

The bar under Banri's hotel is a dive. The hotel is a dive. The whole block, basically, is one big dive.

The steps down to the bar are slick with god knows what. The sign over the door reads _Abandon all hope, ye who enter here,_ only someone's crossed out _enter_ and scribbled in _leave_ above it, which is probably more accurate. Most of the people in here don't have a lot of hope except the kind that comes out of a bottle. They're mostly youkai too, and Banri wonders how Sanzo will react to that.

He doesn't. He just sits down at the bar in his nice white robes and orders a double shot of whiskey. The bartender--also youkai--slams it down in front of him with a glare, and Sanzo knocks it back in one swallow. The bartender's expression eases a little, probably from knowing that Sanzo won't sit there sipping the same drink all night.

"Another?" he says, and Sanzo nods.

Banri slides onto the stool next to him. He faces mostly towards Sanzo, one elbow on the bar, legs spread. Sanzo's eyes don't drift downward, maybe because he'd rather eyefuck his drink. He takes this one a little more slowly, but not much.

"Same for me," Banri tells the bartender. "You're drinking like a guy who wants to forget something," he observes to Sanzo.

"I always drink like this."

"Got some kind of grudge against your liver?"

Sanzo snorts quietly and finishes off his drink. He waits until he has another in front of him and then looks over at Banri. "Why did you target the temple?"

"Who, me?" Sanzo just keeps looking at him, and after a few seconds, Banri gives in. "Easy pickings. Fat, slow monks, lots of a gold lying around." He makes a mental note to leave the temples alone for a while, especially if Sanzo's going to hang around. Maybe just stick to gambling and a little highway robbery. "Sooner we were gone, the sooner I could get back to my family."

Sanzo raises an eyebrow. "Family?"

"Oh, yeah. Mom, kid brother. I gotta look after them now my dad's dead. Mom's real sick, and the medicine's expensive."

"That's not a very original lie."

Banri shrugs. "Why bother making up something good? You're not gonna believe it anyway."

"How old is your brother?"

Banri blinks. That's either impressive or creepy. Gojyo's not his brother of course, but he's the closest Banri's ever gotten to family.

"Sixteen. Seventeen I guess, by now," he says slowly. "I've been gone a couple weeks." This job had actually started as a way to get that leather jacket Gojyo wanted for his birthday. It would've been way easier to just boost it from the store. "How'd you know?" he asks.

"These stories usually come with more siblings."

"I'll keep that in mind for next time. So what about all your monks?"

"What about them?"

"You don't seem too sweet on them."

"You killed your partner."

Banri shrugged and hunched over his drink. "He wasn't my partner. He was just some guy I hooked up with."

"They're not my monks."

"Okay. Except they _are_. Unless those aren't priest's robes you're wearing, and they look like it to me."

"Robes don't make anyone a priest."

"No. But you've gotta be."

"Why?"

"No fake priest could get away with all the drinking and smoking and shooting people."

"I haven't shot anyone today."

"Yet. Besides, they all knew you. Funny name. Sanzo." It's ringing a very faint bell. Maybe he's famous? A famous Buddhist priest sounds pretty unlikely, but Banri could swear he'd heard the name before. Maybe it's some other Sanzo he's thinking of.

"Funny." Sanzo looks considering. There's color in his cheeks from the whiskey, hair falling in his eyes, ridiculously pretty. "Yeah. Maybe it is."

"What are you doing here?" Banri asks.

"Drinking."

"Slumming."

"I thought you were slumming. You're the one who doesn't drink with humans."

"Maybe I'm just trying to get in your pants."

He's sort of surprised when Sanzo's response doesn't include physical or verbal abuse. Sanzo just looks at the shimmering film of whiskey coating the bottom on his glass. His finger traces the rim. At last, he says, "You'd fuck somebody you wouldn't drink with?"

"Not sure I'd put it like that."

"You just did."

Banri shrugs. "Yeah, okay. I'm easy. And sex is sex." He studies Sanzo's face, or what he can see of it while Sanzo communes with his drink. "Why? You looking to get laid?"

Sanzo turns to glare at him. " _No_."

"That's interesting. Since you're sitting there incapacitating yourself in a room full of horny youkai."

He doesn't have time to blink before Sanzo's gun is jammed up under his chin. Sanzo's hand is shockingly steady as he thumbs the safety off. Banri doesn't have to look around to know that everyone in the bar is staring.

"Okay," he says. Squeaks, really. The barrel is pressing uncomfortably against his vocal cords. "No means no, I get it, chill." The gun disappears into Sanzo's robes again. Banri wonders what else he's got in there. "You pretty good with that thing."

"For a priest?"

"For anybody."

"I've had a lot of practice."

"How many people have you killed?"

"As many as I had to."

"Heh. Oh, yeah. You're a badass, man."

"Oh, shut up."

Banri takes that suggestion, for about a minute and a half. He doesn't quite believe Sanzo's no. Sanzo came along with him for _something_ , and it sure as hell wasn't companionship. "You want to go upstairs?" he says, as casual as he can manage. "I've got a room."

There's a long, long silence. Banri assumes that's his answer, but finally Sanzo says, "Is it clean?"

"Clean?"

"I'm not staying anywhere with bugs."

Banri chokes down a laugh. "No bugs. I swear."

"Fine."

Sanzo marches up the stairs like he's on his way to his own funeral. Banri thinks about telling him he doesn't have to do this, but doesn't. Sanzo's motivations are his own business. Banri just wants to get laid.

The room is clean, if kind of tacky. The ceiling paint is starting to peel, and there's a poster of some chick on the wall with her boobs hanging nearly out of her dress, but the sheets are a crisp, bleached white and there are no bugs. The window even has a view of the river if you squint.

Sanzo lights another cigarette and shrugs out of the top half of his robes, leaving them to hang around his waist. He's a bony little bastard, and his shoulder muscles and tendons stand out clearly through the black top he's wearing.

Banri leans against the wall next to him, looking him up and down. "Pretty."

Sanzo grunts.

"Bet you get that a lot, huh."

"Yes."

"Too bad, it's true. Handsome, you ain't. If you had tits, you'd be a girl."

"Fuck you," he says, but he looks oddly more relaxed now.

"Whatever floats your boat."

More silence. And then, "Do you only fuck guys?"

"Nah, I swing both ways. But guys are usually easier, and they don't get pregnant. And there's nothing like a nice, tight ass." He gets a glare so vicious and unexpected for that he almost steps back.

Sanzo turns his glare out the window, and it fades gradually until his face is smooth again. His arms are crossed over his chest, and his cigarette droops from the corner of his mouth.

Banri steals it and stubs it out. This is getting boring. He ignores Sanzo's renewed glare and grabs his arm, spinning him around and shoving him face-first against the wall.

Sanzo goes with it, continues the motion somehow so that Banri's back hits the wall so hard it knocks the wind out of him. He ends up on his ass staring up into the barrel of Sanzo's gun. Which is about where he figured he'd end up.

"Is that more what you were looking for?" he says when he gets a little air back. "'Cause if all you want is some poor sucker who'll try and jump you so you got an excuse to get his brains all over the floor, I ain't that guy."

Sanzo blinks and lowers his gun a little--which means that it's just pointing at Banri's crotch now, so not as big a step forward as he was hoping for.

He pulls his own shirt off over his head and tugs at the bottom of Sanzo's robes. "Or were you just looking for somebody to talk to? 'Cause I ain't that guy either. We can fuck, or you can leave, or hell, I guess you can stay, there's two beds. But I got zero interest in being your therapist, sweetheart."

The guns sinks slowly to point at the floor, and a slight flush spreads across Sanzo's cheeks. "Fine," he mutters. He throws the gun on one bed and shoves his robes down to the floor.

Yeah, still hot. "Take the top off too." He waits until Sanzo's done that and is going to take the gloves off before he gets to his knees and pushes Sanzo's hand away. "Leave those. I like them."

Sanzo blinks at him, looking genuinely startled before his face closes up again. His fingers pick at the edge of the fabric, but he leaves them on.

"Well?"

"Well what?" Sanzo snaps.

"Unzip your fucking pants so I can suck your dick. I'm already on my knees here. What do you want, an engraved invitation?"

Thumb hooked into his waistband, behind the button of his jeans, Sanzo hesitates. Banri wonders if he has any idea how he looks right now, angry and unsure and so much like prey that it makes Banri's mouth water. When he leans in to rub his cheek and lips over Sanzo's hardening cock through his jeans, he hears a tiny gasp from above.

Banri drags his teeth down the line of Sanzo's zipper. "C'mon," he mutters. "Hurry it up."

The zipper sticks halfway down, and Sanzo has to fight with it. Somehow Banri keeps himself from laughing until Sanzo calls it a son of a bitch, and then he loses it a little, forehead dropped against Sanzo's thigh. He hears Sanzo sigh and hears the zipper give way, and a hand cuffs the side of his head more gently than he would've expected.

"All right," Sanzo says. "This was your idea."

"Dunno about that," Banri says, but he pulls down Sanzo's jeans anyway. There's nothing underneath but the hard, warm length of Sanzo's cock. Banri wraps his hand around the base and his lips around the shaft sideways, mouthing upwards towards the head. Sanzo makes a soft, high sound in his throat, muffled and almost inaudible.

His fingers slip across Banri's short-cropped hair, and Banri wonders if this is his first blowjob. He can't have much experience, the way he's acting. Of course, he's a priest, so Banri's pretty sure he's not supposed to have _any_ experience.

Soft, stretched skin slides under Banri's lips and tongue, and Sanzo takes the base in his hand. Judging by the strained look on his face, he's about five seconds away from just shoving it in Banri's mouth. Banri waits four seconds before he licks over the head and lets it slip between his lips. Sanzo's hips do jerk forward, but he's pretty sure it's involuntary. He digs his nails into Sanzo's thigh as a warning anyway.

That doesn't work out as planned, but Sanzo's response is worth it; the sharp skid and scratch of his fingers across Banri's skull and the tight hitch of his breath. Banri lets him thrust shallowly into his mouth, lets him feel a hint of teeth on third push in and listens to him hiss.

Sanzo's eyes are narrow and almost angry. He breathes harshly through his mouth. Banri watches him as he takes his cock in deep. Sanzo bites his lip hard, and then his eyes close and his expression eases. His hands are almost gentle in Banri's hair in the few seconds before he comes.

Banri spits it out on the floor and stands up, grabbing Sanzo's arm so he can't step back. "I'm gonna fuck your ass," he says. He's looking right into Sanzo's eyes, waiting for the flinch, but Sanzo gives him nothing.

"Fine," Sanzo says. He turns away abruptly, but Banri drags him back.

"Other bed."

"What's wrong with this one?"

"It's got your gun on it."

"So?"

"So I don't want to end up as your snuff film if you change your mind halfway through."

There's a second of silence, and then Sanzo stops fighting his grip. "Fair enough," Sanzo says, and okay, Banri would actually rather he'd denied the possibility of mid-sex death.

Because of that, Banri's shove is a little harder than it might've been. Sanzo falls forward, one foot on the floor, one knee on the matress. His jeans are down around his thighs, ass hanging out. He glares over his shoulder at Banri with a muttered, "Asshole," but he doesn't move.

"Did you bring lube?"

"Of course not," Sanzo snaps.

"Yeah, like you weren't planning this." Banri cuts off Sanzo's reply with a sharp smack to his ass. It leaves a red handprint that Banri rubs his palm over roughly until Sanzo turns his head away.

"I assume you did. Just go get it," Sanzo says.

"Fine. You stay right there."

"Fine."

"I mean it," Banri says, stripping off his pants. "Don't fucking move. Best I've seen you look since I met you."

"All you can see is my--" Sanzo stops abruptly, and Banri smirks.

"Yeah, you got it."

He digs the lube out of his bag and takes a second just to look. It's a little surreal--the white robes crumpled on the floor, sun coming through the window, the red splotch on Sanzo's bare ass. The human he's about to fuck. And damn, it's been a while, like _years_. Not that it's much different, at least not from this angle.

He brings his hand down on Sanzo's ass again, because he can, because he's pretty sure Sanzo will take almost anything from him right now just out of stubbornness. Again, no flinch. Banri slicks his fingers and pushes one straight in, no stopping.

Sanzo's hands tighten on the sheets, and his head hangs down. "You were right," he says. "If I had my gun, I would shoot you right now."

"Tightass." Sanzo gives him a poisonous look for that, but it's true. Banri crooks his finger, wriggles it a little. Sanzo makes a high, stifled noise. If anything, he bears down harder. "Hey," Banri says. "Is the new plan to crush me to death with your ass? Re-fucking-lax, man."

"Fuck you."

"Missed your chance." Banri sighs and prods Sanzo forward onto the bed until there's room to lie behind him, finger still up his ass. "Look, I'm not gonna hurt you."

"Too late."

"Wimp."

" _Just get it over with._ " It comes out more as a snarl than actual words, and they both stop. Somebody down in the bar laughs too loudly, and there is the sound of breaking glass. Banri pulls his finger out, and Sanzo's body loses some of its bow-string tension.

Banri clears throat. "Okay," he says. "Okay, chill, huh?" He gets Sanzo's stiff body turned towards him with difficulty and kisses him.

Sanzo sputters and pushes him away, but not hard. He looks more confused than angry for once. "What the hell was that?"

"I"m guessing not enough people have said this to you in your life, but shut the fuck up." He kisses Sanzo again before he can respond, hand in his hair to keep him close. It's a little weird at first, and Sanzo doesn't seem to know quite what to do with his nose, tongue, _or_ lips, but he's a fast learner. When Sanzo licks between his lips and Sanzo's hand comes to rest lightly on his side, he feels a brief surge of triumph. It's followed immediately by a surge of I'm-an-idiot, because seriously, for this amount of effort he could've had any of those guys down in the bar twice already.

This isn't bad though. Sanzo's mouth is soft and wet, and his kisses get gradually harder until he's kissing like he talks, rough breaths and sharp nips to Banri's lips. Sanzo's getting hard again, cock leaving sticky trails where it rubs against Banri's thigh. Banri wraps his hand around it and rubs the head in little circles on his skin.

Sanzo's fingers dig into his shoulders, and his breath hitches. "On top of me," Banri mutters. He gets his hands on Sanzo's waist and pulls until Sanzo's straddling him. It's not too awkward an angle, and his finger goes in way easier this time.

"Okay?" he says. He gets no answer, but Sanzo pushes back, takes his finger deeper and does this little swivel thing with his hips. His eyes are mostly closed, and he leans in for another kiss, teeth scraping over Banri's jaw and lower lip.

Banri screws his finger in deep, adds more lube and then another finger, and Sanzo's still not tensing up much. It's good enough. If Sanzo rubs up against him any more, Banri's going to come before he even gets inside him. He grabs Sanzo's hair and tugs him back. "Ride me," he says.

Sanzo blinks at him, slow, licking his lips. "What?"

Banri takes his hips and pulls him into position, cock rubbing along the cleft of his ass. "Get with it, priest. Sit on my dick and move. It ain't complicated." He coats his cock with lube and holds it at the base as Sanzo rises uncertainly onto his knees.

He balances there, bent over, hand just touching Banri's stomach for balance. "I--"

"Is this the part where you tell me you've never taken it up the ass before? Because believe me, it's painfully clear. Save yourself the embarrassment of saying it out loud."

Nails dig warningly into Banri's skin. "That wasn't what I was going to say."

"No? What then?"

"Never mind." He positions himself against Banri's cock and pushes down hard, takes it all in one go.

Both of them close their eyes and let out two small, squeaky breaths. Banri's trying not to come and Sanzo's probably in pain, but it sounds the same. The air in the room feels too close, too hot. Banri slides his hands up Sanzo's sides and feels the faint dampness of sweat over the curve of his ribs. The curtains flutter in a sudden breeze, and Sanzo starts to move.

It's just a gentle rock at first, hardly moving at all. He keeps his eyes closed, and Banri watches his face, watches him catch his bottom lip between his teeth and bite down hard as he speeds up. He braces his hands behind him on Banri's thighs and shoves his hips forward over and over, sharp twisting thrusts as he tries to get Banri's cock deeper.

"Fuck," Banri mutters. It's hot as hell to watch. He runs his hands up Sanzo's chest and rubs his thumbs roughly over Sanzo's nipples. Sanzo's back arches, head tipped back for a second, and then he bends forward, grabbing at Banri's shoulders and working himself hard.

Banri gives him a fist to fuck his cock into and tries to remember to breathe. Sanzo's hair sticks to his own face, clinging to wet lips and sweat-damp forehead. His cheeks are flushed, and his movements are jerky now.

Banri can feel his panted breaths and pulls him still closer, teeth on his neck, biting and sucking a mark into tender skin. Something close to a whimper escapes Sanzo and he comes, hot and sticky over Banri's hand and stomach.

His movements ease and stop, and Banri curses and flips him over, giving him long hard thrusts that squeeze a moan out of him before Banri shudders to a stop, cock pulsing inside him.

He rolls off when he's done, flopping on his back next to Sanzo.

"Cigarettes," Sanzo says after a minute or two.

Banri gropes on the floor for his pants and lights two at the same time. He passes one over, and watches their smoke drift up towards the ceiling.

"You can stay the night if you want," he says. Sanzo shrugs, but doesn't move.

The afternoon sunlight takes on the red tinge of evening, and crickets start to replace the birds outside the window. The noise from the bar is ramping up.

"My ass hurts," Sanzo says, a little drowsy, a little whiny. Something about the tone makes Banri smile.

"Oh, you're fine. Suck it up."

"That's disgusting."

Banri snorts and turns his head to look at him. "Yeah, you think you're funny, huh?"

Sanzo smiles a little for the first time all afternoon. "Not really."

"Well, good. Me neither." And then there's a second where they're both smiling at each other like idiots, like they like each other or something. Banri looks away first. "Why'd you pick me up anyway?" He winces a little. He hadn't meant to ask.

"You're the one who asked if I wanted a drink. You're the one who suggested we go upstairs."

All true. But he's still left with the feeling that Sanzo made all this happen.

"Whatever."

The next time he glances over, Sanzo's asleep. Banri blinks at him. It's almost offensive that Sanzo can manage to trust him that much. He _shouldn't_ trust that much, shouldn't trust him at all. Even Gojyo has enough sense not to trust him.

Sanzo must just be a really light sleeper, Banri decides. So that if, for instance, he tried to go over there and walk off with Sanzo's gun and whatever else he's got up his sleeves, Sanzo would wake up and do something painful involving his balls. So, better not to.

The cigarette is still hanging from the corner of Sanzo's mouth, and Banri removes it. He brings it to his lips, next to his own, and takes a pull on both of them before stubbing them both out. The ceiling above the bed is blank, free of water stains, spiderwebs, and cracks. He stares up at it until it fades into darkness behind eyes he doesn't remember closing.

***

Banri's alone when he wakes up. It's some fucked up hour of the night, no noise from the bar or the streets outside. There's one bird outside his window, the kind that sounds like a rusty door. Must be near dawn.

Sanzo's stuff is gone from the floor and the other bed.

"Well, fuck," Banri says quietly. "That was something."

Since he's awake anyway, he thinks about skipping out on his bill for a good five minutes before he remembers they made him pay upfront. So much for that. He gets his stuff together anyway and heads out.

The girl behind the bar stops him. "You Banri?" she asks.

"Maybe. Do I know you?" He tries to remember if he even told Sanzo his name. He doesn't think he did.

"Your friend asked me to give you something."

"Like what, a punch in the face?"

She gives him an odd look and reaches under the bar. "No, like this."

She slaps it into his palm, and he doesn't understand what it is at first. It's heavy, rounded, and as he turns it over in the dim light he finally recognizes it as the fat little golden Buddha he pegged Han in the skull with. There's still a streak of Han's blood on it, dried and flaking off as he rubs his thumb over it.

He stuffs it in his bag and goes. Doesn't know what else to do. If Sanzo's trying to tell him something with this, he's not getting the message. A warning, maybe. Or payment. Or...hell, the bastard couldn't just write him a note? He pulls it out again and turns it over in his hands.

Outside, the sun is rising. Everything's vaguely pink and soft with fog. He throws the Buddha up in the air and catches it as he walks. There's a pawn shop one town over, right on the way home.

He throws it higher. It catches the hazy sunlight and falls back to him like a shooting star. He could probably get enough for it to buy Gojyo that stupid jacket. Or maybe Gojyo'd like the statue instead. It's got a hell of a story to go with it.


End file.
